Those Little Pills
by likeit
Summary: Don't even know how to explain this. Feeling a bit Angsty I guess. Thinking that whether you are a shipper or not, maybe they are just too complicated to realize what they could have? I don't know. Would love some reviews.


A/N: I didn't know what to name this. If they were real people, how messed up would they be? Would they ever be on the same page with each other? I feel both these characters are so complicated and so sad. And yes, I miss the Deakins days.

Per usual. Just using characters that are already owned by another.

Those Little Pills

He's taking a lot of pills these days. Not _illegally_ of course. Just ones prescribed by Olivet. The blue one for anti-anxiety. The large white one is a mood elevator. The smaller white one helps him sleep.

He takes them religiously because he really wants - no _needs_ to feel better.

He worried at first that they would make him less on his game. More blurry. He worried that his mind would be foggy and he'd be of no use to anyone. No use to _her._ When she comes in each morning his heart flutters a little. To anyone else, it would probably be inperceivable. When he sees her, he feels like maybe he doesn't need those pills. Maybe he just needs her. He chuckles to himself thinking of Olivet writing a prescription that says "Spend more time with Eames."

Of course, he wouldn't be able to fill that prescription anymore. He has a feeling that store has closed.

//

She's taking a few pills lately. They are all prescription of course. She's gone back to the blue one for anti-anxiety. She's familiar with those because they seemed to work during the aftermath of her kidnapping. Her sister-in-law is a prescribing nurse. She prescribed a large white pill to "take the edge off". Occasionally she takes the small white sleeping pills that are leftover, again, from her post-trauma days.

When she sleeps, she dreams of better times with Bobby. Of past cases and conversations. Of Deakins and the old days. Sometimes she wakes, refreshed for a minute, until she realizes that these _aren't_ the old days. And it's Ross she has to see and not Deakins. She remembers after that first stretch of the morning that Bobby's life has been torn apart, into a million pieces he is no longer the Bobby of old days. It is no longer the "Goren Show".

She walks towards their desks and sees him sitting there, looking up at her with broken eyes and a face that has aged years in mere months. She really counts on those blue pills then. Because she is anxious. Does she have enough to give him anymore? She is afraid that she has been depleted, that she has run out of a cure for what ails him.

//

He dreams sometimes, and they are not so horrible. Sometimes, they are even, well, good. He dreams about cases from the past. But not _the recent_ past. He dreams about walking with her through city streets, mulling over clues and alibis. He dreams about Deakins telling them to "step into him" and the ease in which they backed each other up.

He never dreams about Bishop.

Sometimes, he dreams about walking into the bullpen...Goren and Eames...Deakins favorite and best team. Always working, always solving. The golden couple of Major Case. When he wakes, he's ok for a minute or two. And then it hits him. And it's not the death of his mother, his brother, the betrayal of Declan or the murder of Nicole. No, what hits him is that he and Eames are no longer the shining stars they used to be. No, they are two older, and wearier detectives, being replaced, slowly, by younger ones, like Wheeler, who apparently knows and more incredibly, likes Ross.

Wheeler is willing to play the game. Goren and Eames aren't. Or is that it's been so long since they played, they've forgotton the rules?

//

The first time she and Goren were passed up for a big case was a few months before Declan Gage tore through the pages of Bobby's life. She remembers it clearly. Ross came out of his office and took a step towards her and Goren, but at the last minute turned to Wheeler and Logan, beckoning them into his office. By the way they scurried out, grabbing their coats, she realized that She and Bobby had become second string. And she _more_ than resented it. Bobby seemed to not care so much. Being bogged down with paperwork from their last case he seemed more inclined to let others chase leads. But she still wanted, _craved,_ the chase. The solve. Privately, she confronted Ross. Quite simply, Ross told her he believed her partner wasn't quite up to this next case. And, he reminded her, their first case back after his suspension was a very high profile case. And that was that. She couldn't help stewing about it all night. Bobby (and herself, if she was honest) had insulted Ross during that case, knowing it was personal to him, and bulldozing through anyway. She remembered that part of her job was to play the political game. She's just _forgotten_ how to play.

Or maybe she doesn't want to anymore.

//

He knows that the closest he will ever come to marriage is what he has with Eames. He would never tell her of course. After all, she was once married and had a real husband. One that presumably could satisfy her in _every_ way. But he gets almost everything he needs from his relationship with her. She can still make him laugh. She is dependable, loyal and quiet. She knows him and his moods. She knows more about him than just about anyone. Truthfully, in this relationship, he gets everything he _needs_ at this point.

There are times when he wishes he could do the things that married people do. And he doesn't just mean the sex. He wants to buy her flowers, sometimes, just because. Or tell her she looks beautiful in green. He wants to go window shopping for things they could never afford, or just walk around the city for no other reason than to get an ice cream cone. He longs to see her in sweat pants with her hair up. He wants to know what she does when she spends time with her nephew, her sister, her brothers.

And then there's the sex thing. Lately, the past few years actually, his libido is down to almost nothing. The doctor had warned him that the pills he was taking may lessen his libido. He rolled his eyes to himself. That really didn't matter anyway. All night sex marathons didn't appeal to him at all. And the thing is, he'd feel like he was cheating on her anyway. A few times, he's caught himself staring at her looking out the window, or in the file room, or even at a crime scene. He still feels that something stir in him, and he thinks he must love her, because pills or not, she still does it for him.

Not that he'd ever tell her. They'd end up in divorce court.

//

When she and Joe had been married for a year, they hit a rough patch. Their hours were different, money was tight, and the subject of when to have children dominated any time they _did_ have together. So they went for counseling. It helped, a lot.

Lately, she's been thinking that she and Bobby should go to couples counseling. They had a marriage of sorts, and had hit their share of rough patches. But then again, who hasn't had rough times in a relationship that has lasted as long as theirs. She must love him, she thinks, because she has never once, in all this time, _really_ thought of leaving him. Even after all this time, Bobby can engage her mind like no one else. His subtle teasing still makes her smile. His loyalty to his job and his victims is like no ones' she's ever seen. Even keeping her in the dark wasn't him being disloyal to her. In his own, bizarre way, he was protecting her.

She wonders what it would be like to walk through the city with Bobby some day, just because.

She hasn't dated in a while. She finds herself thinking that no one could really hold a candle to Bobby anyway, and then quickly admonishes that thought.

And then there's the sex. Casual sex doesn't interest her anymore. She wants _real_ intimacy. Then she thinks her relationship with Bobby is the most intimate she's ever known. And yes, he's aged, and put on weight, but she sees beyond all that.

Sometimes, she looks at him and thinks "Damn". He still does it for her.

Not that she'd ever tell him. That admission might just be the one to put him over the edge.

//

He wants to know her thoughts on everything lately. He wants, very badly, to tell her about dreaming of the old days. He wants to tell her everything that has been thrown at them lately could never be enough for him to leave her. He wants to tell her she does more for him than any combination of pills.

But he'll never tell her. He's too afraid.

//

She wants him to know everything she thinks about. She wants to tell him how much she dislikes Ross, and her jealousy of Wheeler, and how she misses Deakins, oh so much. She wants to tell him that no matter what, she'll never leave him. Because she needs him. Like those pills she's back to taking.

But she'll never tell him. He won't feel the same way.

- Fin -


End file.
